#if I need anything more than that or don’t have big pockets I give my shit to whoever I’m with to carry for me 🤣

[enchantingforestfeeder]

The streamer

“Okay everyone, thank you for coming to the stream! Thank you all and that you to my sponsor “locked in” for supporting the stream. Use my code for 25% off this weekend!” Emma said as she ended her broadcast for the day. Streaming had been going really well lately. Her returning viewers had slowly been increasing and soon she would be able to make a push for partner. Ever since her sponsor reached out, everything started working out for the better. Her relationship to the company was rocky at first, but she grew to appreciate them.

When they had offered to pay her to drink their sodas on stream, was thrilled to finally start getting the recognition she deserved. Unfortunately, she didn’t read the fine print and to her surprise, several cases showed up on her doorstep instead of a sampler like she expected. They wanted her to drink one soda every hour and talk about the taste and if she failed to do so she would have to pay them back for the shipment.

“That’s crazy! At this rate, I’ll have to drink an over a case a week. I can’t do that.” She thought to herself, but her hands were tied. She didn’t have the money to pay them back so she had to do it.

The first stream was a struggle. It was hard to focus with her belly being so bloated and having to surprise her burps. To her surprise, the company’s name was not just for show. She was able to lock in with her games and was able to win more! And as she started winning more, her viewer count increased as well.

One of the downsides of this energy drink was that it increased your appetite. By the time she was done streaming, she was ravenous. It became a routine to pull up food delivery and use the money she made on stream to order massive amounts of food.

As the streams went on, her body got used to the bubbly liquid and starting wanting more. Without realizing it, she was drinking more than she had to in order to fulfill her sponsorship requirements and ended up ordering more out of her own pocket.

This new lifestyle was building a big bill that her waistline had to pay. After first week of her sponsorship she had noticed she was already getting a bit softer everywhere. She struggled to stretch the yoga pants she usually wore over her thickening thighs, and her bloated belly often pushed the waistband down revealing her developing muffin top.

She didn’t think anything of it at the time. “Well yeah, I spend all day drinking soda and playing video games. Of course I’m getting a little chubby,” she thought to herself. After a month she had become the company’s number 1 ambassador. Little did she know, her audience wasn’t watching for her gameplay, they wanted to see her binge on this soda.

That’s when the donations with weird requests started coming in. “$25.00 Burp into the microphone,” “$40.00 chug another soda,” “$50.00 have burgers delivered,” she thought these were just growing pains. Women streamers often get harassed so she simply took this as a sign she was being successful. She would do some and reject others but everything was put in perspective when she got the biggest donation she had ever received.

“$500.00 show us your belly,”

“really!? They want to see my belly?” She thought to herself. This was a couple months after her sponsorship started. “I’m definitely chubbier than before, but it hasn’t gotten that bad, right?”

After that donation went through, dozens followed it. “$15.00 PLEEEEEASE,” “$20.00 we NEED this,” “$10.00 don’t tease us, give the people what they want!” Altogether the total was closer to $750.

“Okay guys, calm down. Here you go.” She stood up, revealing a belly that caused her to crop top to ride up and push down the waistband of her leggings. Looking at herself in stream, it finally dawned on her how huge she was getting. Her chat definitely noticed as well.

Even more donations started pouring in, praising how fat she was getting. “Well, there’s worse things to be than the fat streamer.” She thought to herself.

“Oh my god, chat. Look fire fat I’m getting! I think I need to go in a diet, what do you think?”

“Noooo!” Chat cried in unison.

“Oh, do you think I’m not fat enough then? You little freaks trying to fatten me up. I’ll tell you what, highest donator of today gets to pick what I order for dinner tonight. But that’s enough of that, let’s get back to the games!”

[shmothman]

almost fully agree with you on the key items that fit in your pockets but may I suggest a fifth item: a pocket knife

Listen I respect all my pocket knife carriers out there but (other than when I’m out in the field in which case I do have a field bag with me) I have never once needed a pocket knife while just out and about

I WILL append that I do usually have a water bottle and snack in my car so if I’m out In Public for longer than intended (and haven’t gotten food for some reason) I have access to Protein Bar

[allforhee]

ੈ✩ — 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒. (BLURB) | LEE HEESEUNG

୨୧ pairing — older brother's best friend!lee heeseung x park!fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — living under the protective eyes of your older brother, park sunghoon, he thinks he knows you the best. but litte does he know that heeseung knows you love your sour patch kids more than you love his usual swedish fish. (inspired by the summer i turned pretty scene where conrad knows belly's taste of candies more than jeremiah)

୨୧ genre — non!idol au, you're 20 and hee is 22, you and hee are dating but sunghoon doesn't know, sort of childhood friends to lovers?

୨୧ warnings — cursing, forbidden (ish) romance, cute fluff where heeseung knows you best, backstreet dating behind sunghoon's back, heeseung and sunghoon having a little quarrel, possesive/sassy-ish hee

୨୧ word count — 562 words, 3148 characters (sort of proofread?)

୨୧ author's note — first blurb and i lowkey wrote this on my phone during english class.. had to get this out of my system cause i absolutely loved this scene in tsitp. plus i felt like i needed to write something since i won't be releasing "it's a crisis"'s full fic anytime soon since i'm busy with exams coming up :(

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓.

the car comes to a stop under the gas station’s bright led light. sunghoon takes off his seatbelt as he grabs his wallet in his pocket, before exiting the car, leaving you and heeseung alone.

you could feel the tension between you and heeseung. the heavy rain outside making it seem louder. he was slumped over in the backseat with his phone in his hand, the bright light illuminating his features.

when did he become so handsome?

sunghoon opens the driver’s side’s door, “we’re two hours away from home, gas is filling up and i’m gonna get some snacks. you want any y/n?”

“i’m down with anything, honestly.” you respond.

as sunghoon is about to close the door, heeseung takes off his seatbelt, whispering a “i’ll come with.” before closing the car door.

the mini market’s door rings a slight ding! as sunghoon pushes the door open. the constant buzzing of the refrigerator and the broken acs filled the room. the two split up searching for bare necessities like snacks and water to keep them company on the way home.

as a couple minutes passed, the two found each other again at the cash register, dropping the things at checkout.

in sunghoon’s hands was a bag of swedish fish, meanwhile in heeseung’s was a bag of sour patch kids.

“don’t waste your money bud, she likes these better.” heeseung snickered, a smirk on his face.

sunghoon lets out a sigh, “they’re practically the same.” he defends himself.

“not to y/n. she thinks swedish fish tastes like candles. she likes sour.”

“why do you even care, hee?” he asks him. “she’s my sister, i know her.”

heeseung licks his lips as he lets out a small laugh, “i don’t.”

“that’s bullshit.” sunghoon scoffs.

“you still want these?” the cashier asks the two, pointing at the swedish fish.

“yes yes, of course.” sunghoon answers.

“i tried to warn him.” heeseung laughs at his best friend.

“why are you acting lik—like this?!” sunghoon asks, a slight bit of anger heard through his voice.

“relax, you big fucking baby. i’m just messing with ya man.” heeseung chuckles, giving his best friend a pat on the back.

with a glare, sunghoon taps his debit card at the scanner, paying for their snacks, picking up the plastic bag and murmuring a small thank you, to the cashier, before they rush out back into their car in the pouring rain.

as the two car doors slam, you take the plastic bag from sunghoon’s hands, diving in.

“what did you get?” you ask the two, ruffling the inside of the bag.

“ooh! sour patch, my favorite!” you glimmer, opening the package as you dive into the sour goodness. but you didn’t miss the bag of swedish fish in sunghoon’s hands.

“oh! i could, um, eat this swedish fish… after?”

sunghoon opened the bag before he responded with a “no, no it’s okay. i got them for me.” as he popped a little fish in his mouth, chewing with disappointment.

“okay.”

sunghoon’s brows furrowed, knowing damn well that his best friend was right.

even from the backseat, he could feel heeseung shooting him a look that was screaming i told you so! before he put the car into ignition.

as sunghoon pressed the gas and started driving into the dark rainy night, his sister chewing on her sour patch kids, he heard heeseung letting out small whisper right in his ear.

“you see? my girl knows her sour patch kids.”

taglist; @ariadores

back to my masterlist?

© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[dante-mightdie]

my thoughts about ceo!john price and trophywife!reader…

warnings: minors dni, smut, blowjobs, finger-sucking, daddy kink, fluff, john spoils you rotten <3

john price is a powerful man…

successful, wealthy, strong, attractive…

what else would you expect from a man who owns his own private military company…

he drew you in the moment you first laid eyes on him…

sat in the back of the painfully boring soiree that you had been dragged along to his black suit, a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other…

he must be an important man here because apparently he’s the only one allowed to smoke inside…

it wasn’t the way that his suit fit in all the right places that made you blush…

nor was it the way he sat… legs spread wide with a prominent bulge on display…

what made you blush… was that he was also looking at you…

it wasn’t long before he was striding up to you, as confident as anything, and offering to buy you a drink…

and the rest is history…

now you’re by his side everywhere he goes, a pretty little thing on his arm to show off and spoil…

perfectly manicured nails, more clothes than you know what to do with, a disgustingly expensive wedding ring…

weekly date nights at the fanciest restaurants, top-shelf liquor and kisses that taste like champagne…

nothing is too much when it comes to you <3

you’ve never had a man that takes care of you like john does…

he buys you everything you could ever want and more…

all he asks is that you sit pretty on his lap and empty his balls for him :(

but he never has to ask :)

you are more than happy to get on your knees for daddy…

thanking him for the brand new red-bottoms he bought you…

sucking on his balls and stroking his long, thick cock…

he’ll watch you with a content smile, interlocking his fingers with yours, watching as the diamond on your engagement ring twinkles in the sunlight…

don’t think it’s over once you’ve swallowed his cum…

you gotta make sure you climb back into his lap and cockwarm him whilst he smokes…

let him stroke your hair and press kisses your cheek whilst he praises you…

“such a good little thing for me, aren’t ya, lovie?”…

he’ll coo the words in your ear before he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, letting you press a kiss to it before he slips it into your mouth…

“‘m gonna give you the world, sweetheart…”

call this man daddy in public and see what happens…

call him daddy in front of simon or gaz… I dare you…

he’ll be dragging you to the nearest private room and tearing your panties off then stuffing them in his pocket…

this isn’t horny but john matches his suit pocket handkerchief to your dress…

this is horny but you match your lipstick and nail colour to the tip of his…

he didn’t notice until you gave him a blowjob and he couldn’t stop staring at your lips sucking on the head of his cock…

“you little minx…”

if you’re really good for him… he might be nice and let you pick a 141 member to have for your birthday…

he’s seen you eyeing up simon for a while…

and god knows the man needs to unwind…

john is an old-fashioned lover <3

he only has eyes for you…

and he’s such a gentleman…

he’ll kneel down and tap his knee for you to place your foot on so he can strap up your heels…

gives you his jacket when it’s cold…

opens doors for you…

kisses placed to the back of your hand…

“love…” “darling…” “honey…” “dear…”

“daddy’s good girl…”

personal headcanon that john is a big james bond fan…

owns an aston martin and everything…

you giggle everytime he orders the famous martini…

john loves it when you spend his money…

loves getting notifications from his bank when you go shopping…

especially when he sees that you ordered something from the Italian lingerie store that he adores…

but he especially loves when he sees that you’ve clearly bought something for him…

£2,750 at The Whisky Exchange, £1,080 at Sautter Cigars…

you know him so well…<3

I feel like this version of john would still have the 141 working with him…

and he’d pick one of the boys to be your personal bodyguard…

maybe soap because he knows you’ll like his fun personality…

john favourite thing to come home to is you in sage green lingerie, white stockings and his bucket hat…

bonus points if you’re already touching yourself when he gets home…

john spoils you rotten on birthdays, anniversaries, etc…

you wake up to dozens of designer bags strewn about, bouquets, huge stuffed animals…

but the most treasured gift john has ever given you is a emerald locket with the letter ‘J’ engraved and your wedding picture inside <3

gonna think about him all day at work…

[totheblood]

massive clinger n possessive ellie headcannons!!

havent done headcanons in a hot minute... if i'm rusty i apologize.. ai audios at the end!

clingy!ellie headcanons

clingy!ellie, who just wants to do everything with her girlfriend, so much so that she sometimes can't have fun if you're not around

ellie, who has resting bitch face until you show up, and then she's smiling from ear to ear when you appear, drawing you in for a hug

"c'mere, i missed you," she sighs into the side of your neck as she holds your body firmly against hers

"i was gone for five minutes, ellie," you remind her

"still too long," and she's nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, pressing small pecks into the indentation of your skin causing you to groan

ellie, who literally walks with her hand stuffed in your back pocket

“why can’t we just hold hands?” you ask her one day

“this is easier,” she nonchalantly shrugs, “plus i like being close to you… and my hands get cold.”

when the two of you are over at dina’s, she’s pulling you into her lap, pouting as she says: “why are you sitting all the way over there? trying to get away from me?”

she just wants to feel you breathing sometimes… it calms her

so when you sleep together you have to sleep chest to chest, so she can feel the rise and fall of your chest, comforted by your breathing sounds

when she wakes up and you’re not there she groans, dragging her feet into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around your wait from behind

you hum as she presses a gentle kiss to your neck, pulling you closer to her with a sigh

“bed’s too cold without you…come back to bed”

“ellie,” you groan, because you have class in an hour and you want to get there early, but you know she’s gonna win

“just for thirty minutes,” she groans, and then she’s pleading, “pleeaaaseee…”

“ugh, fine,” you turn around to face her, giving her a stern look, “but only for thirty minutes”

“you’re too good to me,” she says right before kissing the tip of your nose

she’s always begging for more time with you, no matter how much time you’ve spent together

spent 3 hours together? what’s 3 more?

24 hours together? there can always be an extra hour you two spend together

and you let her, because even if you don’t admit it, you secretly like it

she always finds the things you have to say interesting, hanging onto the edge of her seat listening to you talk about the most mundane shit like it’s the coolest thing she’s ever heard

she told you once: “anything that comes out of your mouth is so interesting to me. you could make sleeping sound interesting, or maybe i’m just crazy and in love with you.”

“crazy in love with me?”

“no crazy and in love with you…”

when you have to spend time away from her back home she’s pacing her room, unsure of what to do with herself

it’s late at night and she wants to tell you goodnight and talk about how your day went, but she doesn’t want to be annoying

she decides fuck it, she’d rather hear your voice than go to bed angry

so she’s biting her fingernails as she calls you up, heartrate quickening every ring you don’t answer

but then you do and she’s taking a big sigh of relief

 “i’m sorry for calling so late at night… i needed to hear your voice…”

she knows she’s borderline possessive… okay she’s pretty possessive… but she can’t help

she makes it a point to use “my girl” as frequently as she can

“me and my girl are going to see barbie on opening night.”

“my girl is so fucking funny, you have no idea”

or the “you’re so pretty, my pretty girl”

it also becomes a problem when she finds herself convincing herself that everyone who meets you, wants you

because how could someone know you and not love you?

so she comes off as stand-offish around your friends, dissecting every behavior they do towards you and trying to convince you they are in love with you

“ellie, she just offered me a ride home…”

“yeah, sure… it starts with a ride home, but before you know it she’s begging to eat you out”

“ellie, oh my go-”

“hey, i know what it’s like to have a crush on you. i know when other people are crushing on my girl.”

you have to admit it does help your ego

possessive ellie who can never leave your side at a party, grip tightening when she sees some jack ass staring at you

when her fingers dig into your side you turn to look at her, a worried look on your face when you notice her tense jaw and eyes trained on some guy

“you’re okay?” you tentatively ask, causing her green eyes to flick to you

“yea, dude’s got a staring problem…” she says casually, rolling her eyes

deciding you want to calm her down, you kiss her cheek..

“i love how you look out for me, els,” you smile, causing her cheeks to redden as her gaze softens

“i just- i can’t stand how they’re looking at you…”

“i know, baby,” you coo as you rub her shoulder, “but i’m yours and yours only, you know this.”

this causes her to physically relax. you can see how her whole body just gives into your touch

“you’re all mine,” she smiles, tight lip leaning into properly kiss you

[malum-forev]

If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.

Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3

*

“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.

“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York. 

“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”

“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“

Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”

“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.

-- 

Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought. 

“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention. 

“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest. 

“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him. 

Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping. 

“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”

The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets. 

Sam facepalmed himself. 

“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled. 

“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly. 

“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”

Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.

“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”

Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts. 

Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?

The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand. 

Bucky gulped as you approached him. 

“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips. 

“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered. 

“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out  when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”

You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.

“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him. 

Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.

He saw how you nervously fidgeted. 

“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“

Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame. 

“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” You squeaked.

“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.

“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”

This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

[lovifie]

Meeting Soap 🧼

Masterlist — OG Drabble - First Morning

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other’s body.

“Good morning, ma’am.” The guard at the door greets Simon, leaning down when he rolls down the window. He moves his sunglasses up to his head, resting his hand on the car roof. Simon looks at the guard with an astonished expression, making you wonder just how many of his expressions have you missed by the mask. 

You chuckle for the side seat, catching the attention of the guard who quickly turns pale when he lays his eyes on you, surprising you just for a second before you remember you are in your boyfriend's body.

“G-Good morning, Lieutenant.” He says, standing straight. Simon covers his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile. He clears his throat to disguise his laugh and turns to the guard. “You know him, right? Can we get through, then? We have a meeting with Price.”

The guard quickly nods, pushing the button to open the gate and Simon drives the car inside the base. He glances at you when you laugh, smiling as well. “I could get used to this, Si.”

He laughs softly shaking his head. “Don’t get high on power now, love” He parks onto his spot, turns off the engine and turns to you. “Alright, love. We need to talk to Price.”

“Your captain.” You remember nodding.

“Exactly, my captain. Older lad, big mustache-”

“Wait, I don't have your accent!” You realize, looking at him.

“That's fine, I don't talk to people enough for them to realize if I suddenly don't have the accent. Only my team may notice, and we are looking for them, so no issue.” He explains, making you cock your head at the mention of not talking to people. 

You nod, understanding what he means. “Alright, so… Price's your captain, and the other two; what were their names? Gaz and… Shampoo, was it?”

And it must be really amusing to him that you have remembered the names of his teammates for the way he chuckles at you. “Exactly, make sure to call them by those names, all right?”

You nod quickly. “Alright, I got it.” He nods as well and steps out of the car. You do as well and close the door after you, you turn to him when you hear him curse. “What's wrong?”

“The fuck are these?” He asks, and then you notice him fight with his pockets, making you laugh. He looks back at you, annoyed with the pockets.

“Use the back ones.” You say pointing to your butt. “Or let me keep them, you are not leaving me here anyway, right?”

He shoves the keys in his back pocket and starts to walk grabbing your hand to walk together. “His office is down that way, J. Price, got it?” He asks and you nod. “If he is in there, give me a call, alright? I'm gonna go check on the mess hall if the boys are there, call me if there is any problem.”

You feel a bit uneasy about being on your own on a military base, only knowing the names and nicknames of four men. Still, it looks like Simon must be someone people respect because of the way they move out of your way. You try to mimic the way Simon usually walks; looking straight ahead, always as if he knows where he is going and ready to kick out of the way anybody who gets in the middle. 

The captain's office is easy to find and you knock on the door, leaning in to hear if anybody says anything inside. When you don't hear anything, you turn around to look for Simon, well, yourself.

Only to find him next to a man who is leaning against the door, and just by seeing Simon's disgusted face you know he is getting hit on.

Simon's POV

There is nobody he is looking for inside of the mess hall, so he turns around to exit when he collides with somebody that almost sends him flying back. 

The feeling is so alien to him that it automatically annoys him, missing his bulldozer-like build. Strong hands grab his waist keeping him from falling and it only repuls him even more how easily the stranger can grab him.

“Careful there, bonnie.” A more than well-known voice says and he looks up to his teammate Soap. Well, Shampoo. The thought of you calling him that makes his smile for a second, which for his disgrace only fuels Soap to think this is okay. “Ye're right, lass?”

“Fucking peachy, mate.” He answers, pulling Soap's hand away from his body, hating the way he can tell he gets free just because Soap lets him peel the hands away. “Where is the old man?”

He raises an eyebrow, confused for a second before he figures out and he lays a hand on your shoulder. “Aahh, you are looking for Price, bonnie?”

“Yeah, right, Price. Have you seen him?” Simon asks, pushing Soap's hand out of his shoulder.

“Not yet, I'm pretty sure he is still coming back from a meeting downtown.” He says smiling, using the hand he pushed off his shoulder to brush his hair back as if it was his plan all along, flexing his arm’s muscles in the process making Ghost cringe. “But I can take ye to his office, keep ye company if ye want. I'm a great talker.”

“No, thank you.” Ghost simply says, before he tries to move away, getting exasperated with the way his mate is flirting with him. If only he had ever talked to them about you, if they had shown them a photo, something, he wouldn't have to be dealing with his mutt of a friend.

But Soap can't be blamed, a cute little thing like you going around the base. For fucks sake, the first thing he saw of you was your butt sticking out the door when Simon was checking who was inside. Soap is ready to risk it all for you. Plus, there are some real weirdos on base, so he is going to stay close.

He doesn't need to stay away, because the moment Simon tries to walk away from him; he crashes against somebody again. Once more, being grabbed by the waist, this time by even bigger hands. He is ready to fight but then he realises it is his body, which means is you.

“Ah, thank god it's you, I was about to-”

“Careful there, love. You almost fell for me, am I right?” You ask, pulling Ghost plush against your body. He looks at you as if you just grew a second head which makes you want to burst out laughing.

“The fuck is wrong with you, love?” He ask, eyebrow raised.

“The only thing wrong is that you don't have my surname, love. How will people know you are mine, hm?” You ask, leaning down and making a kissy face hidden by the mask.

Ghost chuckles shaking his head, amused by your lack of shame as he puts a hand over your mouth pushing you back. You laugh as well standing back straight, you check he didn't get hurt with the crush and then look at the guy behind him.

You have never seen him before, you just know he has the most confused expression the man can have. Completely immobile, borderline afraid and you need to fight the intrusive thoughts of just suddenly moving just to scare him.

There are many things going on inside of Soap’s head at the moment, he was happy he had found Ghost, happy to talk to such a pretty thing even if she seemed disinterested. He was going to get pissed somebody else got in the way, but he was then relieved that it was his LT; knowing the man was never interested in girls. Only for his stoic CO to start pulling the worst pickup lines in history; Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, shamelessly flirting with a girl. And on top of everything, it was working!

“That's Johnny.” Ghost whispers covering his mouth so the other man doesn't hear.

“Who the fuck is Johnny?” You ask back the same way, Johnny not being one of the three names you know.

“Shampoo.” Ghost answers snickers hiding behind his words. 

“Oh, hey, Shampoo, how you doing my guy?” You ask, giving your best impression of what you think your boyfriend would do. Obviously doing a horrible job by the way the other man looks at you when you clap his hand. You definitely need to talk to Simon about how he behaves around his friend. 

“Are ye feelin’ all right, Lt?” The shorter man asks, confusion still flooding his senses.

But he is not the only one confused, because what the hell does Lt means? Is that his nickname? And that is what breaks the act, you turn to your boyfriend before asking. “Your nickname is Lt? What does it stand for? Lil tits? You don't have small tits.”

Simon is infinitely glad that you only mumble the last part of your words, too low for the scot to hear. Not that the men would be able to take anything in, with how shocked he seems to be.

“Okay, there is no point in hiding it from you anyway, Johnny.” Simon says looking at him, not liking the feeling of Soap towering over him like a wall. “Something weird has happened.”

“No, that I can tell, bonnie.” He says grabbing Simon’s arm and pulling him close to him. “I think Lt must have hit his head or something.”

“No, no, Johnny. That's my girl.” He says, fighting off Johnny's grip on his arm. “We switched bodies someway.”

Soap looks at Johnny, an unreadable look on his face. Then he burst out laughing, slapping his knee like a cartoon. “Alright, wow, ye guys really planed that good. I almost believe it, that's a weird way to introduce yer girl to us, Lt.” 

You rub your forehead thinking about how to prove it. “Okay, Shampoo. Honesty. What about what I have done or said today tells you that I'm him?”

“I have to admit it was quite credible. But c’mon, this is real life, those things don't happen.” Soap argues, not even caring about the nickname.

Ghost finds the situation amusing, his girl arguing with his best mate, seeing her grow exasperated with him. In any other situation, he would laugh, because he finds it amusing. Until he doesn't.

He doesn't find it funny because someone grabs him from behind. He turns around to see a rookie, he has only seen him a couple of times, and doesn't even know his name yet. 

But the man is still way taller than him in this form and he easily overpowers him. It's different from Soap's approach, he quickly realizes. Because the scot was touchy and maybe stood too close for his liking but Ghost could easily push him back when he got too close.

This man? Ghost is using almost all his strength and he is unmoving. He is not used to this body, all the tricks he knows only work when he is double the size. He doesn't know how to take advantage of being the smaller one, not with this much difference. 

“Come with me, c’mon, pretty thing.” The stupid rookie says. “I'll give you a good time.”

It brings Ghost bad memories of his childhood and his more recent past. Feeling at others' mercy, a feeling so familiar and alien at the same time; it only gets worse because he can feel himself get paralysed with fear. 

“What did you say, dickhead?” A deep voice says over him, and when he looks back he sees himself. Ghost only has seen you mad once since he met you, you reached your limit and snapped when an idiot hit your car. Ghost was glued to the passenger seat on that occasion, not daring to get in the way of your anger but still looking at the mirror to see if he was needed. He wasn't.

He also knows that he is a scary fucker, everyone knows. But something inside him clicks when he realises that the idiot who grabbed him is about to regret it. 

A gentle hand find her way to his lower back, keeping him in place and the other grabs the soldier's wrist. So hard his fingers twitch around Simon's arm letting go. 

The hand on his back gently tug at him, moving him behind you; kind of in between Soap and you. You still don't let go of the man's hand, making sure that Simon is fine first. He looks still a bit shaken but something tells you is more an inside conflict than anything.

And once you are sure, you turn to the man. He isn't as cocky as he was just a moment ago, he is bending to the side you are grabbing him; pain pulling him. 

“Now, what were you saying about a good time, bitch?” You spit at him, you pull your other hand back just to gain momentum and you hit in right in the middle of his face. No kind of technique whatsoever, but Simon's body shear strength enough to send the man's head back and forth like a whip before he falls back like a corpse on the floor.

Your hand hurts, but you know he is worse. And it is at that moment that you take notice of the crow you are calling, the lieutenant fighting somebody right on the mess hall door. A big show. 

You hear Simon call you, but you still need to give a message to the asshole. You kick his feet, trying to wake him up; but he doesn't, so you crouch down slapping his face. You see him move his eyes behind his eyelids and you take it as proof of life. 

“Remember that the next time you dare to touch a girl, okay, buddy?” You say, the men still not really answering and when Simon calls your name again you look at him standing up. Two new men behind him, not that you care.

You walk up to him, cupping his face, until one of the men says: “Simon, my office. Now.”

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie

Hi my lovelies 🩷🩷🩷

I am finally updating it, I have planned next to meet Price and Gaz and then after that I have little plot thought about it, so if there is any scenarios you are curious about let me know!!

The way I was laughing to myself with the Shampoo thing, like, so stupid.

Anyway, let me know if you liked it with a comment and I'll see you soon!!

@tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr

[griffintail2]

Wolf in Duck's Clothing (Part 2)

Summary: A small child sinner tries to navigate her way through Hell.

Pairings: Lucifer x Child!GN!Reader

Warnings: None that I know of but it's Hazbin, we'll find them eventually.

Part 1 - Part 3

--

“Sit here.” He brought them into the sitting room. “Don’t. Touch anything.”

The small child sat; their ears twitching as they looked around as Lucifer left them be to think of…something to get the sinner out of his hair. He could leave them somewhere but there weren’t exactly orphanages and he didn’t know anyone. Hmm, but Charlie might. She was quite more sociable with their subjects than he was. She was working on some project or other but surely, she could help him, and it would be nice to see his daughter.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) shifted on their seat, sniffing the air only to sneeze at the amount of dust they smelled. It was such a big and pretty house; they were surprised it was so covered in dust. Their father would hate how filthy it was…

(Y/N) looked the way Lucifer had gone before looking at the food in their hands. They stood up, carefully wiping an area of the coffee table free of dust with their tail before they put their food down, quietly eating the bread and an apple as they sat on the floor. It was so good to get food in their system.

Lucifer dialed his daughter as he paced his hallway.

“Heeeey Dad,” Charlie answered after a few rings.

“Charlie! How are you?”

“I’m good but a little busy right now, I’m working on my hotel.”

“That’s wonderful Char-Char.” Lucifer hummed noncommittally. “But hey, I need a small favor.”

Charlie sighed quietly. “I’m a little busy Dad.”

“It’s small I promise.”

“I’m really, really sorry, but I need to work on this. I’ll come over in a few days. I promise. I just really need to do this.”

“A few days?” Lucifer looked down the hall back to where the sinner was.

“Yes. But I will be there to help with what you need.” Charlie promised him, though she assumed it was another duck project or the like; he’d be ok for a few days or he’d forget about it.

“It really can’t wa-”

“Charlie!” Someone called for her on the other end.

“I got to go. Talk soon, dad.” Charlie said once more because she hung up.

Lucifer sighed as he stared at his phone. A few days? What was he supposed to do with the sinner now? He had no idea where you’d even take a child sinner in Hell. How did they end up down here? They had to have done something terrible to end up here.

“Of course they did, they’re all terrible.” He muttered to himself as he started walking back to the sitting room as he pocketed his phone.

Just a few days, that’s all he had to hold out for. He’d see his daughter, she’d take the sinner away, and he could go back to his ducks! A win overall.

He came out, seeing the sinner separating their food carefully in different piles on the table.

“What are you doing?” He asked making them jump again.

They looked up at him, ears pinning back. “Rationing.”

“Rationing?”

“Yes, I’m trying to make sure I have enough food for—”

He held up a hand. “I know what rationing is.” He looked at their small pile of food. “You’re really taking care of yourself?”

They nodded as they looked at their food and then at him. “Just me.”

“How long have you been down here? How did you get down here?”

They paused as they watched him before looking away, staring at the food in front of them. “I-I haven’t been here…long. Maybe…a few months, I don’t know sir. It’s…hard to tell time here.”

They were silent after that, not uttering a word of their sin.

He sighed deeply from his nose as he crossed his arms. It was wrong of him to ask that. While a sinner…they were a child. Whatever sin they had committed would be hard on them.

“Alright, well the only person I know that can give some help is going to be a few days. So…you’ll stay here till she gets here. I’ll give you some old clothes of my daughter’s and you can stay in one of the guest’s rooms.”

The child looked up at him in surprise and his gaze softened seeing their eyes glossy.

“Really?” They watched him carefully.

“Yeah. I’m…not thrilled about the situation. But, I wasn’t going to send you back onto the streets. Charlie will be able to help you get somewhere. Come on, I’ll show you the room.”

They went to pick up their food but he waved his hand, making them look at him confused.

“You won’t need that.” He snapped his fingers and the food disappeared, making the child startle. “There’s food in the kitchen. You can get whatever you want from there when you’re hungry. Now come on.”

He started walking, the child staring at his back for a few moments before hurriedly following him.

“There’s just going to be a few rules till Charlie gets here.” He told them as they walked down the hall. “One, don’t go into other rooms besides the room I’m letting you use, the kitchen, the sitting room, and the bathroom. Two, don’t touch anything you don’t need to. Three…well that’s actually all I have for right now. But those are the rules. Got it?”

They nodded silently.

“Good.” Lucifer nodded as well before stopping and opening a door to a bedroom. “This the room.”

The child gave a soft frown as they saw it was also covered in dust but that should be an easy fix. They nodded, now giving him a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah well.” He shrugged. “See you in a few days.”

He left with that, the child tilting their head in confusion. Surely the two of them would see each other for food or the halls. It was a big house though. Maybe it was harder to see each other. (Y/N) hummed softly before looking at the bedroom. Well, there was work to be done then.

[rashoumon-homo]

No Such Tastes In Men pt.3 (Dazai x Reader)

Dazai x Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: male!reader, anal sex (Dazai receiving), bottom Dazai, dom!reader

-> 1.9k words

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

<- Previous Part

When Dazai approaches you for your weekly meeting, you can tell there’s something more on his mind. He’s biting his lip, eyes not meeting yours, while you give your report on suspicious activity you’ve monitored in the past days. It’s not like him to be so distracted, so nervous, so you stop mid-sentence and fold your arms over your chest. 

“Alright, spit it out,” you say, eyes narrowed. “You’re thinking so loud it’s drowning me out.”

Dazai gives you an apologetic smile. “That obvious, huh? I was trying to find the right words to invite you back to my place after this meeting.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why do I want to invite you over, or why was I thinking so hard about how to ask you?” he asks.

“Both, I suppose.”

On the surface, Dazai looks as calm as ever, but to the trained eye he’s clearly nervous. That slight tremble of his hands that he hides by shoving his hands in his pockets; how his gaze flicks away as he laughs nervously. “I wanted to try something new with you.” He swallows. “I want you to fuck me.”

You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “That’s it? You don’t need to be nervous to ask me that! We’ve been getting each other off for months now, it’s no big deal.”

“Only during the weekly meetings,” he clarifies. “And only with our hands or our mouths. Inviting you over outside of that time frame, and to actually fuck me– which would be my first time, mind you– is different.”

You shrug. “I don’t think it’s weird, if that’s any consolation. You want me to top?”

Dazai nods. You smile and step forward, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Alright,” you murmur. “I’ll make it good for you, don’t worry.”

He shivers, breath catching in his throat. His reaction lights a spark inside you, your heart racing at the prospect of making him melt in your hands; getting to fuck those pretty whines and moans out of him. 

“I’ll let you get ready. 9:00 tonight?” you suggest. 

Dazai nods. His eyes are wide and if you had better hearing you swear you’d be able to hear his racing heart. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “Don’t stress too much, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

As you leave the alley, you hear him say quietly, “That’s why I’m worried…”

***

You knock on Dazai’s apartment door a few minutes before 9. He opens it a second later, his face flushed and a nervous grin on his face. He’s changed into a much more casual outfit; a plain t-shirt and jeans. It’ll be much easier to get him out of it than his work clothes would have been. 

The apartment is warm and cozy. There’s music softly playing from a speaker by the tv, something slow and romantic you don’t recognize. He leads you to the living room and invites you to sit down on the couch, then heads to the kitchen. “Want anything to drink?” he calls out. 

You smile to yourself. He’s trying so hard to set the mood and it’s kind of adorable. “Water’s fine,” you reply. 

He appears a second later with two glasses: water for you, and whiskey for himself. You down half the glass in a couple gulps, while he sips his drink and sits beside you rigidly. 

“Relax,” you remind him, bumping your shoulder into his. He smiles sheepishly in return and takes another sip of his drink. 

“You hook up with women all the time, don’t you?” you ask. “Why’re you acting so shy?”

“It’s just… different,” he says with a sigh. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever been with, and you’re so experienced. I don’t know what we are; what our boundaries are. We’ve made each other cum a dozen times but we’ve never even kissed. I just… don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

You smile sympathetically at him. “We don’t need to figure out a label right now unless you want to. But you do make a good point about boundaries. For me, anything physical is fine. You can touch me, kiss me, bite me, whatever you want. I’m fine with you calling me ‘baby’ or whatever during sex, just don’t blindside me with an ‘I love you’ or anything.”

Dazai shakes his head and laughs. “Pfft, I wouldn’t do that, don’t worry. My boundaries are the same. And I don’t mind if you leave marks or anything, they’d probably get covered by my bandages anyway.”

“Since we’re both okay with kissing,” you say playfully, “Want to get our first kiss out of the way? Might help you relax a little.”

Dazai sets his drink down and scoots closer. “Okay,” he says, cautiously reaching his hand up to rest on your shoulder. You cup his jaw in your hand and stare into his eyes for a moment. Your other hand rests at his waist. You brush your thumb along his lower lip and pull him forward so your foreheads meet. 

“God, you’re handsome,” you whisper, then bring his lips to yours. He kisses you softly, tentatively, at first, but then you part your lips and he mirrors you, tongue dipping into your mouth. You hear him groan quietly into the kiss and you can taste his whiskey on his tongue. His hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek. He holds you surprisingly gently, more so than you expected anyway. 

When you break apart, you’re both breathing hard, cheeks flushed and soft smiles on your faces. 

“Better?” you ask. 

He grins and kisses you again in response. This time, he swings his leg over yours to sit in your lap, his fingers threading into your hair. You trail your kisses down to his neck, where you suck hickeys onto his skin. 

“I could do this all night, just keep kissing you until my lips hurt,” he says breathlessly. 

You laugh, the vibrations tickling his neck. “I can think of something better,” you say. Then you grab the undersides of his thighs and lift him up. He wraps his arms around your neck and crosses his ankles. 

“Which way to the bedroom?” you ask, still nibbling at his neck. 

“Down the hall, first door on the right.”

You continue kissing him as you carry him down the hall, and with some difficulty (considering you’re carrying him, kissing him, and have never been here before) find your way to the bedroom. You lower him onto the bed and climb on top of him. 

“Doing okay?” you ask. You sit up and pull off your shirt. 

Dazai nods enthusiastically, then pointedly bucks his hips up to press your erections together. You both groan at the contact, and then it’s a tangled mess of you grinding against each other while trying to pull clothes off. 

Finally, you’re able to slip his boxers down and get your hands on that cock. You’re careful not to touch him too much; you don’t want him cumming before it’s time. But just a little for now is fine, to tease him. 

“Gonna have to stretch you now,” you say. “It’s probably gonna take a while since this is your first time, but-” You stop talking when you see Dazai looking to the side, embarrassed. “What…?” you ask.

“It is my first time, but I’ve, uh… fingered myself before?” he says quietly. 

“Oh?” Just that “oh?” is enough for Dazai to crack, spilling the secret he’d tried to keep all day. 

“A little after we first hooked up, I tried fingering myself, cause I was curious, and it was really good but it wasn’t enough and then I ended up buying a dildo but pretty soon that wasn’t enough either and I realized what I really wanted was YOU and that’s why I asked you to fuck me,” Dazai says quickly. 

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Pass me the lube,” you say finally. He hands it to you, looking a little apprehensive still. You coat your fingers, then slip one in. Dazai gasps quietly as he feels it go in. He’s loose, way more than you expected. And so soft and warm inside. You add another and ask, “You stretched yourself before I came here, too, didn’t you?”

Dazai nods. “Mmh… wanted to be ready…” he moans. You slip a third finger in and curl them, petting his walls while searching for his prostate. “Feels so good when it’s someone else’s fingers,” he says. He’s squirming and letting out little breathy grunts as you finger him open. And then you brush over his prostate and he jolts and cries out. Applying just the right amount of indirect pressure has him writhing under your touch and moaning lewdly. 

“Please,” he begs. “I need more…”

“Think you’re ready?” you tease. It’s too much fun taking him apart like this. 

“Please,” he whines. And he looks so pitiful and needy that you just have to oblige him. 

“Alright,” you say. You kiss him to distract him from you pulling out your fingers, then grab the condom he hands you and roll it on. “You sure?” you ask again, this time your voice tinged with genuine worry. “If you want to stop at any point just let me know and-”

Dazai impatiently pulls you down into a bruising kiss. Precum smears onto your stomach as he pulls you close, and you can feel how hot his cock is against you. “Fuck me,” he says desperately. 

You nod and line yourself up with him. You hold his hips in place as you slide in, as slowly as he will let you. Once you’re all the way in, you grind your cock against his prostate and he mewls, pushing his hips further into you. 

“So full…” he groans. “Please… move…”

And so you do. You drag your cock almost all the way out, then thrust in. Dazai positively wails at the sensation. “Fuck,” he cries. 

“You’re so tight and so perfect,” you moan, thrusting in again. The feeling is addictive; Dazai’s hole is sucking you in so nicely. Soon you’re thrusting at a regular pace, holding Dazai’s hips and listening to him moan. 

Fuck, he’s loud, too. Between his loud cries and the sound of the bed frame hitting the wall, he’s sure to get some complaints from neighbors. But you can’t even bring yourself to care. He’s so perfect, so fucking sexy. 

“Please… gonna…” Dazai moans. “Touch me…”

You barely wrap your hand around his cock before his back is arching and he’s cumming hard, moans cutting out into a silent scream as he reaches his peak. The feeling of him tightening around you brings you over the edge too. You thrust hard into him one last time and let out a guttural moan. 

As your orgasms taper off, you collapse onto Dazai’s chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. 

“Holy shit,” he says finally. 

You laugh. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m bi.”

Dazai starts laughing and then you laugh too, kissing him lazily. Maybe you’re just caught up in the moment, but you can’t help but feel like there’s something more between you two than just sexual exploration. It’s something to ask him about later, for sure, but for now you just want to be two happy, sweaty, cum-covered bodies tangled together. Besides, the way Dazai kisses the top of your head? That’s gotta be as good as it gets.

Tag list: @suru1990

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Next Part ->

Back to Masterlist

[planet-dusk]

Imagine

Jeongin is your roommate, actually there was nothing between you two. But when it come to him wearing glasses, its just something else. It brings the dirtiest images of this situation. you cannot let this opportunity slip anymore; youre riding jeongin, praising him, kissing and nibbing on his skin. He is not understanding anything and dont know how it even started

-🤡

🏷️ fingering, oral (f) implied, mentions of perv!jeongin

with his glasses askew, his hair mussed and purple bruises decorating his collarbones jeongin’s a living vision of debauchery.  

you’re seated in his lap and he doesn’t know where to put his hands. your skirt has ridden up so high he can almost see your lace thong. he knows you’re wearing the black one with the little bow on the front; he’d watched you fish it out of the dryer earlier and had made a mental note to pocket it later. 

somewhere between then and now you’d come home from the club and pounced. it’d happened so fast jeongin’s brain is still struggling to catch up. it doesn’t help that most of his blood is rushing south. 

“these fucking glasses,” you mutter between sharp nips at his skin. it hurts more than he’d like but he doesn’t dare to stop you. doesn’t want you to even if he should know better. he can’t ruin things. not with you. 

“you’re drunk,” he protests weakly, “we shouldn’t —”

“shut up, i’ve only had three drinks,” you push at his shoulders. your strength surprises him. it also turns him on, which isn’t helping. neither are the words you utter next: 

“yang jeongin, listen to me. i need you to fuck me. right now.” 

never in a million years did he expect to hear those words coming from you. he stares at your face, searching it for any signs of trickery. this has to be a prank. it’s either that or he’s dreaming. 

“what about jisung?” 

jeongin’s not sure why he asks. he doesn’t give a shit about jisung. 

“what about who,” you scoff and roll your eyes. jisung is the guy you’d been dating for the past couple weeks. ‘dating’ is a big word; it’d been more fucking than dating, with very little room for any conversation. it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. “he left with minho’s sister.”

it all makes sense to him now. you’re horny, and jisung left you high and dry. jeongin pushes the bitter taste of being used as a rebound away and tentatively puts his hands on top of your bare thighs. this might be his only chance. 

“c’mon, innie, don’t be shy,” you giggle. why do you have to be so cute even when you’re teasing him? “i know you want me.” 

he lets his gaze drift from your eyes to your mouth. fuck, you have no idea how badly he wants you. 

“the walls are thin, y’know. i can hear you moaning my name at night.”

his eyes snap back up, feline eyes now wide and rounded, his ears turning the brightest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. you giggle again and grind your hips against his. jeongin’s so hard he’s sure he’s going to explode if you keep doing that. somehow the thought of you knowing about his little crush is more enticing than embarrassing. or maybe today’s the day he discovers he’s got a thing for humiliation. he realizes he doesn’t care. not when your skin is hot underneath his palms and you’re making the neediest little noises. 

“i need your fucking hands. the amount of times i’ve fantasized about these long fingers…” 

jeongin swallows hard. you’ve thought about him too? 

he tightens his grip on your thighs and his mouth finds yours easily. the kiss is hungry and eager, more teeth and tongue than necessary as you lick into his mouth like you want to devour him. the low moan he lets out only seems to spur you on. 

encouraged by your enthusiasm jeongin pushes your sodden underwear to the side and teases your slit with two fingers. he grins when he feels how soaked you are. “all this because of some glasses?”

you’re not laughing anymore, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back when he finds your clit. “down,” you tug at his shoulders and clamber off his lap. he lets you maneuver him into position, reclining on the couch with your thighs on both sides of his head. “the answer is you, you idiot. but you can keep the glasses on.”

[h-hollieskz]

BE GOOD

introduction | masterlist

->pairing: sub seungmin x dom gn reader

->word count: 1000+

->synopsis: your desperate pup just couldn’t wait until you got home

->tw: briefly mentioned edging?, fingering (m), slapping, crying (men crying is my ultimate weakness 😔), you call seungmin pup n stuff and he wears puppy ears and a collar, ties his wrists, overstimulation, ruined orgasm?, aftercare sorta, sry if I missed anything

->authors note: I hate it :)

Buzz

Your phone buzzed from your pocket and you saw it was your boyfriend, Seungmin, but you ignored it returning to your conversation. It was only when you heard the second ping, that your hand began to snake to your pocket to retrieve your phone once more.

You opened the notifications, rolling your eyes when you saw what he had wrote.

Please come back.

You can’t leave me here like this.

He couldn’t even let you go out with your friends for more than a few hours before he was spamming you with messages. He’s so clingy.

Buzz

Please

Buzz

I’m begging you

Buzz

I need you

Buzz

😭

“I’m sorry-“ you apologised to your friends who had paused whilst you read the texts. “It’s nothing carry on.”

Buzz

Why did you leave me on read?

Your finger pressed the silent button.

Pleeeease

It’s your fault I’m like this anyway :(

You’re the one who told me I couldn’t cum last night :((((((

Your eyes scan his messages, choosing once again to ignore him. He can wait a few more hours surely.

☆☆☆☆☆

As you arrive back home, you take off your shoes at the door, plopping your bag on the kitchen table. You pull out a chair, sitting down to check your messages. Two texts from your mom, and a staggering 32 texts and 3 missed calls from your boyfriend. You barely bother to check each individual message, but one draws your attention. It isn’t a text at all. It's a video.

It was sent almost an hour ago, a pathetic 3 minute video of Seungmin fucking his pillow. You can’t deny how his gasps and whimpers turn you on and it suddenly reminds you of something. You haven’t seen him yet- where is he?

You press your ear up against your bedroom door barely hearing the tiny moans coming from the other side. Cracking open the door very slightly, you catch a glimpse of Seungmin, lying on your bed. His legs were wide open, one hand desperately pumping his cock, the other with 2 fingers knuckle deep in his ass. There was one thing however that you couldn’t take your eyes off. He was wearing his collar and brown, floppy ears you had bought him. Such a cutie.

You tut slowly, making a big deal of pushing open the door, relishing in how his eyes widen. He jumps at the sight of you, spilling all over his stomach for what can’t be the first time. He hastily grabs a pillow, trying to cover himself, face flushed red.

“So shy pup? You weren’t like this in that little video you decided to send me earlier.” You raise your eyebrows.

Seungmin stutters slightly, trying to come up with an explanation. “I-uh. It- it’s”

“Hm?” You press. “And what’s this? I thought I told you this morning. No touching whilst I’m out.” As you get closer, you pull the pillow away from where he hugs it to his chest. His angry red dick presses up against his toned stomach- covered in various fluids- and his cheeks only burn a deeper crimson as you crouch down in front of him. “Don’t ignore me Minnie. I want an answer.”

He bites his lip before answering, “It’s not my fault.” A tear slips down his cheek and you wipe it away with your thumb. “I couldn’t hold back any more.” He whispered.

“That’s okay pup, I understand. But you understand you have to be punished for this- don’t you?”

Seungmin whimpers, “I under-“ You don’t let him finish his sentence, landing a harsh slap on his left cheek. His face contorts with pain, but his dick gives him away, twitching as you make impact.

“Puppies don’t talk Minnie, lie down.”

You wait for him to lie back down on your bed before you get up to retrieve the box from your closet. Out of it, you pull a length of pink ribbon and a wand vibrator. As Seungmin sees, he lets out the most adorable sound.

“Colour Seungmin?”

“Green.” He whimpers.

“Good puppy, I’m going to tie your wrists to the bed frame okay?” With his eyes scrunched shut, your boyfriend nods, lifting his arms off the mattress to help you.

When you finish, tying it off with a bow, you crawl back to admire your work.

“You look so pretty like this Minnie.” Seungmin gasps beneath you as you press your finger against his softening dick. He looks so overstimulated. “How many times did you cum before I got home puppy? You can speak.”

“Th-three.”

“Oh you little whore.” You remark. “Does this hurt?” You grip his cock tightly, slowly but firmly beginning to jerk him off.

He nods softly.

“Good.”

You turn on the vibrator and he flinches at the low buzzing. He squirms as you start at his balls- teasing him before moving further up his length. His back arches and he strains against the ribbon, legs starting to kick as it gets higher and higher. You pin him down by sitting on his legs, straddling him as he keeps trying to escape. As you reach his angry-looking tip he finally loses it.

“N-nghh” he whines as he feels himself getting hard again. Tears are falling freely by now, staining his pretty face as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

“You look so pretty like this, my adorable little puppy.” Drool slips from his parted lips as you continue your mean teasing, occasionally switching to play with his sensitive nipples.

“Are you going to cum again pup?” You ask coyly, smirking at his pained whimpers as he nods his head desperately. “Okay then, cum for me Minnie.”

Seungmin’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as clear liquid splatters against his chest, a scream-like sound escaping his mouth. He shakes uncontrollably as he comes down from his high.

When he’s done you quickly turn off the vibrator, going to untie his wrists from the ribbon he’s been pulling at. You pull him in your arms, fingers brushing through his sweat-soaked hair.

“You did good baby.” You praise, stroking his soft puppy ears as Seungmin buries himself in your embrace

It’s not my fault the voices told me to write it

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B [part 2]

word count: 1490 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

part 1 for context

____________________________________________

Of course your staff had immediately informed you about the display from the day before when you came in the following morning. The barista even showed you a few snapshots he had taken with his phone and as much as you hated to admit it, you would have loved to have been there to see it in person. Pictures didn’t really do him justice, you thought. “Should I send those to you, manager?”, the barista asked with a knowing smirk. When you didn’t say anything but just stoically walked past him into the kitchen, you were glad when your phone buzzed a few seconds later and a small flood of pictures appeared in your chat. You cleared your throat and got to work.

Despite his regular appearances the last couple of weeks, the guy didn’t show up again the next day. Or even the day after that.

“Maybe he actually finally gave up?”, the waitress suggested with a shrug. She was counting the receipts while the barista helped you clean the espresso maker.

“I hope not. What else are we gonna do for entertainment around here?”

“How about your job.”, you suggested.

The barista let out a theatrical groan, which earned him a dish towel to the face.

At this point, a week had passed since the last time you saw the guy and although you found your thoughts wandering to his handsome smile every so often, you decided it was most likely for the better.

It was late in the evening and the café was closed for the day. The sky was gray and obviously brewing up something unpleasant so you wanted to make sure to send your team home as quickly as possible.

Soon enough, after hugs and waves goodbye, you locked the glass door from the inside and went to the kitchen to prep food for the next day.

You had just started to mash up a bowl of overripe bananas when a soft knocking made you look up and glance through the serving hatch.

The wind outside brushed past the shops with a low whistle and you could make out a very familiar shape in the dim light of the streetlamps.

More excited than you’d like to admit you made your way to the door.

“Sorry, I’m late.”, the guy’s voice was muffled through the glass.

You pointed to the Closed sign with a raised eyebrow. He put his hands together in a silent plea.

With a very big eye roll you grabbed the keys from your apron pocket and opened the door a handwidth.

“Hi.”

“Hey there.”

“I need a cake.”

“Goodbye.”, you closed the door again.

“Please!”, he called.

You shook your head and gestured to your ear to signal you couldn’t hear him.

He thought for a moment, then took out his phone and began to type something. A few seconds later he held the screen up against the glass.

Forgot to get cake for friend’s birthday.

You pulled a notepad from your belt and wrote “unfortunate” in response.

Low rumbling of thunder made you both look to the horizon. A few moments passed in which he threw you puppy dog eyes. You sighed loudly and unlocked the door again.

Not a minute too soon. With the click of the lock the first heavy raindrop hit the windowfront.

“Thank you.”, he said with a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it. But you will have to live with what’s left of the day. The ones for tomorrow still need to be decorated.”

He followed you to the counter, having the decency to look apologetic as you waved him to come along further to check out the cakes in the fridge.

He chose a white chocolate cake with strawberries and you carried it back to the front to pack it up.

“How has your last week been?”, he asked as you worked.

“Uhm, I made my best cinnamon rolls yet and finally found my TV remote. So pretty good, I’d say. How about you?”

“Not as good as yours apparently. Pretty busy. I had to do some traveling and give a bunch of presentations. Sorry I couldn’t come by to bring up that counter you keep on the blackboard.”

You closed your eyes and made an indefinable noise. You'd have to talk to your staff about the concept of discretion.

“Technically, that means I owe you at least one.”

“Oh, please don’t.”

He swaggered closer and, leaning on the counter, considered you for a moment.

You held his gaze, expecting the worst.

“Wait, I… actually forgot what I wanted to say."

You tried not to smile but were betrayed by your pursed lips.

"Gotta be honest, of all your flirting so far that has been the best one."

He gave you a half smile.

"How about you don't see it as flirting. See it as me just being extra friendly to someone extra beautiful."

You scoffed but couldn’t stop a short sort of giggle escaping your lips.

After a moment’s pause he added, now with genuine sweetness, "Go out with me. Just once. I promise it'll be fun. And really, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Where do I even start?"

"Okay. But besides that, the worst that can happen is that we realize we don't have anything in common."

You looked at him, your head slightly tilted in thought.

"Like, what are you doing tonight after work?", he suggested.

"Well, I’m meeting some friends."

"What will you be doing?”

“A museum has a science night we wanna check out.”

“Oh! Really?”, he asked excitedly, dropping his flirtatious manner completely. And sure enough this little piece of information carried you through the subject of scientific fun facts to books to hobbies and so on. The rain had lessened significantly but an hour later he was still there, sitting on a chair at the kitchen island, talking while you worked, peppering in little compliments here and there but keeping it mostly pleasantly fluffy.

When you eventually parted in front of the café, Kuroo hesitated, obviously thinking about how to say Goodbye. In the end you both settled for slightly awkward smiles and went your separate ways.

He had an extra spring in his step as he arrived at the restaurant, incredibly late but incredibly happy. His friend accepted the cake with a tipsy, somewhat off-key belt of “Happy birthday to me!” and pointed to a free seat next to Kenma.

"Someone's looking chipper.", his former setter commented and accepted a slice of birthday cake, “Why did you leave me here alone?”

“You’re hardly alone, Kenma-kun.”, the older one said vaguely, "I had to pick up the cake first. I only remembered when I was already at work."

"So… is it from that little café?"

Kuroo shrugged, but was unable to hide a grin.

His friend lifted a brow. Originally, Kuroo hadn’t meant to talk about it. About how he didn't expect you two to actually have so much in common, about how funny you were, how smart and how gorgeous you looked even after a long day at work. How you practically made him beg to get into the café at all and how easy it was to talk to you once the ice was broken. It took him a few minutes to finally stop gushing.

"Sounds like a very promising night.", Kenma said approvingly, hoping he’d finally be free of his friend’s whining about why you wouldn’t go out with him, "So you got her number, then."

Kuroo's dreamy expression fell at once. "Oh.”

The sun glistened on the streets still soaked from last night’s rain but the air smelled fresh and you hummed to yourself when you thought about the previous evening. As you unlocked the cafe’s front door you heard someone calling your name and turned around.

Your stomach dropped when you spotted Kuroo on the other side of the road, waiting to cross safely.

“Good morning.”, he said, a little out of breath but with a winning smile.

“Good morning. What brings you by so early?”

“I have a full day today so I wouldn’t be able to come by otherwise.”

You tried hard not to look too pleased.

“I was wondering, if - I mean, I forgot to - Could I have your number?”

Pretending to think about it, you opened the door.

“Do you want that on a to-go cup?”

“That would be easier to brag with.”, he said, nodding thoughtfully and stepping in behind you.

While you prepared his usual, Kuroo watched you closely and you weren’t sure if the pink in his cheeks was from his jog here or something else.

When you handed him his tea a few minutes later he stood there, looking you up and down with his cheeky grin.

You squinted in suspicion.

“You look even cuter than usual today.”

“Get out before I charge you double.”

He lifted the cup and winked. “Talk to you later.”

____________________________________________

[thecapricunt1616]

NURSE!!! NURSE!!! SHE BROKE OUT OF HER CAGE TO POST MORE- Dad!Carmy brainrot for you all 😉🫶

— so I Imagine him getting a call in the middle of the night, you’re heavily pregnant with your third. His Apple Watch thankfully woke him (you’d be worried for him to get a call so late). He gets up without waking you going into the living room and answering to hear your teen daughters watery voice at the end of the line and she’s all “Daddy promise you won’t be mad at me” (more below)

He’s immediately grabbing his keys, putting on his shoes and brown plaid coat that he’s had longer than she’d been alive, or then he’d even been knowing you for that matter - his heart thumping in his chest and throat tightening. “Sweetheart why aren’t you home right now?! are you safe? Tell me wha’s wrong- what happened- I won’t be upset honey” he assured her, his stomach clenching at the thought of her hurt.

“P-paisley wanted me to go t’this party with her and - and the police came daddy and she left me there alone- and I got arrested. Come get me I don’t wanna die in hereeee” she sobbed dramatically. He sighed gratefully, starting the car.

“You aren’t going to die princess. Give me 20 minutes mm? And we can talk ‘bout y’punishment w’mommy t’morrow” he said and she huffs

“You’re gonna snitch on me T’mommy?! Daddy you’re being so unfair! “ she whined

He chuckled a bit, “I’m bein’ very fair. I love you babygirl I’ll s’ya soon” he said and hung up. He knew if he’d have woken you, you would have freaked out and panicked at the thought of your little girl drunk and scared and alone. Considering how far along you were currently the stress could most definitely cause early labor and he did not want to deal with that tonight.

He’d make it to the police station fast bc ofc when he was picking a home for his family it would be super close to one for safety reasons and when he walked in and saw his baby sitting in a holding cell with other adults being held on misdemeanor charges, his heart would break.

She would be curled into herself on the bench, knees flush to her chest hugging herself, cheeks tear stained, big blue doe-like eyes puffy and red with thick tears that were still falling. He wanted to pick her up like she was 2 again - even though the top of her head hit his shoulder now, and cradle her like the baby he couldn’t help but see any time he looked at her.

“Oh princess” he said softly and she looks up, quickly standing up and she couldn’t help but burst in to sobs as relief washed over her when she finally saw her dad, who had never let her down from the day she was born - he was always there for her, as were you, but Carmy was always softer on the kids then you were because his dad never showed any of his siblings softness, so he wanted to be sure the kids always trusted him in that way

“Daddy you came! I’m so scared please please I’ll never do it again please get me out of here dad I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry daddy” she broke down and he felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes he could only swallow back because they were in public.

“You- hey-“ he snaps his fingers and the cop standing outside the holding cell door finally acknowledges him “I’m her fuckin father- let ‘er out. Now.” He said annoyed with the man’s lack of attention for his own job.

“She’s unable to be released until her fine is paid” he said and shrugged “it’s the law”

Carmen dug the stupid reciept paper he’d shoved in his pocket that he’d paid the front clerk when he got here, pushing it to his chest “open the fucking door, jagoff. Shes 16 the fuck is wrong with you she’s a baby” he said angrier, voice getting louder.

“Sir I’m gonna need you to calm down.” He said and Carmen rolled his eyes, 2 words he hated hearing even more than anything when put together.

“Look at the fucking paper. And let my daughter go” he snapped, holding his baby’s hand through the bars gently and rubbing a soothing thumb over her knuckles, she was shaking like a leaf.

“Mmm” the man grumbled, opening up the door and she rushed into Carmen’s arms. He kisses the top of her head tenderly, wrapping her in a tight bear hug.

“Y’never allowed t’scare me like that again angel girl” he mumbled into her hair, breathing in her scent that he could pick out even in his sleep as his baby girl.

“I’m sorry daddy I’m so so sorry” she mumbled over and over, tears soaking his shirt. He hushed her how he did when she was just a baby and rubbed her back soothingly.

“S’okay babygirl I think y’learned y’lesson mm? Y’think you wanna go out drinkin again before y’21?” He teased lightly and she sniffled, shaking her head lightly. He didn’t care that she was getting snot all over him, or that she was staining one of his near $80 white shirts with her mascara and eyeliner she’d gotten with a Ulta gift card ‘Santa’ had gotten her, since Carmen couldn’t bare the fact his baby girl was growing up.

“No- no daddy I promise. I promise I’ll never do it ever again. Please don’t tell mommy” she pleads and looks up at him with big watery eyes. He carefully thumbed away the large rings of black under her eyes and cups her face tenderly.

“Sweetheart I am not in control of what mommy does. You know this, and I can’t lie to mommy. Are you asking me t’lie t’mommy? M’already riskin’ my spot in bed by not waking her up t’tell her ‘bout this” He asked sternly, she knew that lies were a big boundary in your family - they just hurt people unless they were ‘happy lies’ aka surprises like gifts or sweet things, but withholding information from each other in fear of making someone upset was a big no no in your house.

She huffed annoyed, lip quivering and she nuzzled back into his chest “unfair. Mommy is gonna ground me forever” she whined.

“Mm - maybe she should ground you. What the hell is this outfit? She’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this, y’gonna get sick” he tells her. She was in nothing but a tank top dress, flimsy nylons, and a half cardigan. He wraps his jacket around her shoulders as they walk out to the car, of course he couldn’t care less about freezing his ass off because his baby needed to be warm even if it was a short walk to his SUV.

“It’s cute dad and m’not gonna get sick! All the girls were wearing dresses like this!” She snapped sassily as she buckled in.

“Mm cute - sure pumpkin. What were you even doin’ - what party was worth the rage of y’mother? Especially when you know she’s been in a mood lately” he asked. A mood was what he called it, you were really just overly hormonal and sore and giving birth within the next 14 days, so everything was ticking you off

“Hally Hawkins party dad. Only the coolest senior at school!! If I was the only one who wasn’t there how was I supposed to ever find a date to the winter ball next month?!” She huffed, crossing her arms

“Date?!” His eyes widen “since when did we say you could date?!” He asked quickly “you aren’t dating you- you can’t date until you’re married!” He said seriously to which she just giggled

“How am I supposed to get married if I don’t date daddy! I’m 16 now! I’m getting my license soon! I should be able to hold hands with a boy I like-“

“Hold hands?!” He exclaims “who the hell is holdin’ y’hand? No- no. No! I’m the only man that holds y’hand and it’s to help you across the street” he grips the steering wheel tighter “y’too little” he said and she whines

“Daddy I’m not little! I’m 16! You promised to stop calling me little” she pushes his hand away at a stoplight when he goes to fix the strap of her dress out of habit “daaaad!!!” She whines and he huffs

“Quit all the whinin’! Y’little as long as y’live w’me and that means that y’not dating and y’not holding hands” he pulls into your driveway, turning the lights off before as to not wake you. “And quiet comin inside- if you wake y’sister mommy is gonna be upset she’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’ “ he opened her door, taking her purse and helping her out of the car.

“Is this mommy’s?” He holds up the purse and she takes it from him, holding it to her chest defensively.

“She never wears it anymore what- are you gonna snitch?! If you do I’ll tell her about you eating all her ice cream” she teased and headed to the door

He gasped, “you wouldn’t dare- you’d sell out y’own father?! After he just went and picked y’ass up outta the slammer. Maybe I shoulda let you stay there eh’? A night in jail may teach you some manners missy” he jokes as he unlocks the door, not seeing the kitchen light on.

“Where were you!” You were stood at the end of the hallway, fluffy robe and slippers on, hand over your bump as you stood there while nervously pacing. Carmy and your Daughter give eachother the we’ve been caught look before Carmy looks at you, as you narrow your eyes at your daughters arm adorning a very familiar looking black bag.

“Is that- red lipstick…and my purse?!”

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

OH GOD YOUR REQS R OPEN, i would rlly like to request something, could you write an one shot of price with a little daugther reader? just like, him coming home and spending some time with his little girl, she tells him about her school, he tells her some funny stories that happened while he was at work, he cooks her favorite meal, just a big fluff, i love this man more than anything and i just need some paternal love LMAO, feel totally free to deny! do everything in your time and remember to take good care of urself!

Memories of Youth

Pairing: Father!John Price x F!Daughter!Reader

Synopsis: It was hard being away from his little girl, but warm mornings spent in each other's company were blessings - even if they were far and few in between. It didn't matter the form.

Word Count: 4.5k (short and sweet)

Warnings: Angst (just a little cuz I can't help myself), a lotta fluff, banter, just good platonic/paternal relationship in general, etc.

A/N: Didn't specify if the reader was adopted or blood-related, so that's really up to you! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He got the call at the halfway point of crossing the English Channel, Northern France behind him and Southern England just on the horizon line as the sun began to spread its orange glow over the waves. Sitting high above the water in a slick black Heli, John Price’s hand snaps to his side pocket, fingers deftly peeling back the layers as the overwhelming sound of helicopter blades shakes the hull. 

The rest of Task Force 141 watch with varying interest, only Gaz taking notice of the sudden frown that mars his Captain’s face; the furrowed brow, and the spark of concern in his eyes. A call was unusual. The Sargeant tries not to intrude, but can’t help the way his body lightly shifts so he can have a better view.

John doesn't bother to look at the contact when he takes the device out, rapidly pressing the answer button and slotting the phone at his ear, tilting his head so his opposite rests at the junction of his shoulder. It only stops a fraction of the noise, even so, it would have to do for now. But with how his ears were already straining to find a sound over the line, he may not need to force out the jarring racket after all. 

Inside his chest, John’s heart is racing – confusion laces his mind. This was abnormal. 

I told her only to call if it was an emergency. What could she have gotten herself into now? I said to stay out of trouble…

“Where are you?!” The Brit has to shout down the line, his familiar deep accent loud and guttural. 

His mind flies through every possibility. An intruder had broken into the house, you had broken your arm falling down the stairs again, or a fire had broken out in the kitchen. Fuck…he was too far away to help if anything bad had happened. John’s jaw clenches, eyes looking out over the water as the bucket hat on his head flops in the wind. It was only a product of his job that made him think like that; years of intuition and thinking on the fly leading to his mind making up the worst scenarios. 

Especially when you called on a secure line when he told you it was only appropriate for life-and-death situations. Especially when it was his little girl.

I told ‘er about the Pistol in my office, yeah? The Captain asks himself with a steel-like resolve. And gave her Laswell’s number?

John’s fingers tighten over the phone when he hears your breath over the line, a shuffling of clothes, and a deep exhale.

“Sunshine!” He tries again, sitting up straighter as his pulse gets faster. Why isn’t she answering me? “Where are you right–”

“We don’t have anything for breakfast.” Your voice is heavy with sleep; fatigue drowning the syllables and holding them under the very waves that rage under John only separated by thin sheets of metal. 

The Brit stops. His body freezes, and as the tense minutes go by his panic falls away and leaves a thick stain of annoyance resting behind his eyelids. Of course. John brings two fingers to his nose bridge, digging into the skin until tiny crescent moons are left behind; he has to take a deep breath before answering, but his tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

“...Breakfast…?”

“Yeah, Old Man, you need me to spell it for you? B-R-E-A-K-F-A–”

“Enough!” John barks stiffly and has to hold back his anger as you laugh from the other side. Ever the jokester – did you not realize how serious this was? How fast your father’s heart was racing with adrenaline? 

Fuck, he had just about been ready to radio the cockpit and force the pilots to fly faster.

Across the way, Ghost locks eyes with the man, and with a tilt of his head and a loud call he asks, “That the Mutt?”

The Captain’s eyes slip back into a firm blank slate.

“Affirm.” John tilts the phone away from his mouth, ignoring your sarcastic comments to catch his sanity for a moment and respond to his Lieutenant.

Simon blinks as Johnny perks up at his side, looking in from the view in favor of the Captain with newfound interest. A bright smile forms over his scruffy cheeks

“She all good?” The skeletal man asks, and Gaz smirks lazily tapping his fingers over his knee, immediately noticing your shenanigans and the way the Cap was so worked up. 

But anyone would be when they had a daughter thousands of miles away.

John simply nods once with an exasperated expression to Ghost. MacTavish snorts out a laugh, knowing the context of the situation without having to think hard.

“Is that Uncle Simon?” You ask, and with a scratch at his beard, your father hums in confirmation, letting the sound of your voice put him more at ease. She’s just fine. “Tell him I want him to come over and play Mario Cart with Gaz, Johnny, and me again! He wiped the floor with ‘em last time!” 

There’s a clinking of pots and pans as you move throughout the house. 

“Sweetheart,” Your father grumbles, sighing through the call. His voice takes on the authoritative tone that works for both soldiers and teenagers – but it rarely works on you, despite that fact. Took after your dad too much, is what John would say. Never listened until it was absolutely necessary. “What did I tell you about callin’ this phone when I’m away from the house?”

He hears your scoff and raises a warning eyebrow, though you can’t see it. You know your dad enough to know he’s doing it despite being separated. It was pretty common.  

“Not to, unless it’s an emergency…But I’d say food is a big enough reason, y’know? Unless you want me to eat the leftover cake for breakfast – which I haven’t thrown out as a possibility yet, honestly.”

“You’re not eatin’ bloody cake for breakfast. You’ll get sick.” Gaz snickers, turning his face away to hide the amusement at the comment. 

It hadn’t been a surprise that the Captain’s daughter was such a familiar creature – they saw traits reflected every time the two were together. Everyone had expected her to take after her old man in nearly everything, and when she had they had bumped fists and prayed for the brown-bearded man. But it was funny nonetheless, considering they got along better than most fathers and daughters; practically reading each other's minds when everyone was playing poker. Johnny was still pretty ticked off about that – he’s a good deal deep into the sweets debt he owes you because Price helps you win. But where they really shined was with the shared deadpan attitudes, bottom-of-the-barrel sarcasm, and knowing how to command a room without even trying. Safe to assume that the rest of the team would do anything for you.

“Will not.” You grumble in retaliation, and John’s lips threaten to tilt into a grumpy smile when he hears you put the cake plate back into the counter. 

Letting the tension fall from his shoulders, the brown-haired man takes a glance outside, watching the waves go bright orange as they lap and writhe like great sea serpents. 

“How long have you been up, eh? The sun’s barely risen. Thought Sunday was when you always slept in?” 

There’s a pause in what John believed were fingers digging through a cupboard, and he narrows his eyes in confusion as the silence grows long. He frowns when you speak again, words so quiet he has to place a hand over his other ear to hear properly. Having half a mind to go and tell the pilots to hurry up and go faster so he can just talk to his little girl in person, he refrains, knowing that’s not how this works. But something was wrong – it had been laced in your previous words, as tiny and unnoticeable as it may have been. Only a father would notice it.

“You said you were gonna be home last night. I stayed up.” It takes a moment of halted breathing before John’s eyes widen, blues full of realization.

Oh. 

…Damn it. He lets out the tense breath of air from his lips, shifting in his seat as the gear around his body weighs him down. His gun digs into his chest. 

He hadn't seen you for over a week – leaving you in the care of a close and trusted neighbor, Mrs. Lilly, just as he always had when he needed to leave for work on short notice. But seeing as you were older now, it became apparent that, with your learned independence, staying at the house by yourself was alright as long as you checked in with the neighbor every morning and night. You had been waiting for him to come home. All alone. In the dark. 

Fucken’ hell, John thinks in a deep layer of guilt as wrinkles overtake his forehead, I did tell her I’d be back yesterday. I forgot to call and tell ‘er. Shit! He didn’t want to imagine the stress that had been put on your shoulders. God, what’ve I done?

Not checking in was something he had never missed before – he always told you when he was about to come back. What had gone wrong this time? How had something that important just slipped his mind? Sure the Op had been tedious, but he was trained to handle it. It was no excuse. 

“Sweetheart,” John starts and then pauses the soft and gentle endearment, knowing that an apology didn’t fit into what you were looking for. You didn’t want an ‘I’m sorry’ right now, you wanted your father. Flattening his lips into a line, he continues, wishing he was with you more than ever so he can press a kiss to your forehead. “...I should be back before 1200. How about when I get back I’ll cook you up somethin’ myself, yeah? Or we can go to that Cafe you like down on Newman Street and I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“...When do you have to go back?” You don’t answer his question, and yours makes his heart hurt. 

John clears his throat.

“None of that, now. We’ll talk more when I get back, Darling, alright?” You don’t respond, but he hears you sigh and quietly scoff under your breath. “Alright?” He tries again, head tilting forward and eyebrows rising as if you could see him. Maybe you could.

“Fine. But you better make me pancakes. I don’t care if it’ll be noon.” 

“Pancakes it is.” The Captain looks up in time to see Johnny mouthing words to him, and with a blank face and stiff lip, your father mutters with a grunt, “Johnny says ‘hello.’” 

Your shocked snort makes him feel better, but a layer of guilt still stays. You were awake all night waiting for him, and he never showed up. Did you sleep on the couch? Damnit, he hoped you didn’t…but in his rattling chest knew you had. He found you like that every time he came back from a long stay away. Huddled under blankets, no pillow under your head. Sometimes you steal one of his shirts and hold it like a stuffed bear to your chest, shoving your face into it. 

How could I forget to fucken’ call her?

Your voice takes him out of his growing self-resentment. 

“Tell him to watch his back – I’m getting better at Rainbow Road. Soon enough I’ll be able to beat him in a 1V1!” John can’t help the slow chuckle that bounces in his throat, mind, for the moment, at ease as long as you continue to speak to him.

“I’ll be sure to pass it along. But, eh,” The Brit makes sure he speaks slowly, letting you hear every syllable of his next words. “Promise me you’ll stay at the house until I get there. No goin’ out with friends, yeah? You know how I worry.” John ignores the teasing look from Gaz and peeks out again to see how close they were to the mainland with narrowed lids. “‘Specially when I’m not there.”

Getting back to the Base wasn’t the problem, it was the damn reports coming in that would wring his neck before he could get out the door. But he’d push it off for however long he could; call in favors from Laswell to get him more time with his little girl so he can fix his mistake. As a dad, the only thing that counted was seeing his daughter after a seemingly unending Op that he didn’t want to relive. The hardest part wasn’t the blood or the guts – it was being away from you. Nothing would ever change that, even if he was the one on the ground gritting his teeth at the bite of a bullet.

“Scout’s honor, Old Man.” The happiness in your voice makes him smile to himself. 

“Stop calling me that, Muppet.” John grumbles affectionately, rolling his eyes, “I’ll give you a call when back I’m in town, Sunshine. Make sure the door’s locked–”

“--Locked, the windows too, plus, if someone knocks on the door I need to look through the peephole and if I don’t recognize them don’t open it…Am I missing anything?”

“Mind yourself, now you’re just being cheeky, you are.” John teases, scoffing, but proud that you remembered his rules. It made all of this just a bit more manageable.

“Who do you think I got it from?” You laugh, but it tapers off sullenly, “Just…get home safe, okay, Dad?”

John’s beard pulls back into a soft close-lipped grin, eyes crinkling as his heart warms. He so desperately wanted to ruffle your hair. 

“Of course, Hun. But, eh, take a nap. It’s still early, and I know you’ve got schoolwork to do later. You sound like you’re about to keel over where you stand.” You scoff before agreeing with a muttered grumble, most likely already stumbling to the living room couch, and then the line goes silent and is replaced once more by the whirring of the helicopter blades. 

The man peels back the phone and pockets it, hand unconsciously brushing his breast pouch where a picture of the two of you always sits. It was a baby picture, with your little form held in his grip delicately; looking down at you with soft eyes and an easy smile on his lips that always formed when he was with you. From under a soft blanket, your tiny hand reaches out to try and brush his stubbily cheek. 

It never failed to bring him ease when he realized the photo was there. A reminder that if everything else in his life went horribly wrong, you would still be looking up at him with those eyes of yours. At the very least, he had managed to do one thing right.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a good kid.” Gaz calls at him, and John spares him a glance out of the side of his eye with a raised brow.

“I know she is. I’m the one who raised her.”

—

You remember eating a piece of toast before you made your way over to the couch, throwing your phone to the coffee table haphazardly before tossing yourself onto the cushions. Still in your pajamas, you can’t find it in you to go and grab the homework in your backpack this early. The sun had only just risen, and the bags under your eyes reminded you how late you stayed up last night. 

But your father had never shown up.

Frantic was too light a word to describe the feeling you had when your eyelids had peeled back to the empty living room and the TV still playing. It had been second nature to snatch your phone and call the secure line – half of you had said it was better to call Laswell, just in case, but your adolescent brain had wanted nothing more than to hear your father’s voice.

He would make it better. But you needed to hear his voice. 

Dad, you remembered pleading to yourself as the sound of the dial tone echoed in your ear, please answer the phone. Please. Answer the fucking phone. 

Your heart was pounding; hands shaking. He never just didn’t show up when he said he was going to. Never. Your dad was punctual – always on time no matter what – and he had ingrained the same sentiment in you as well. 

When his deep voice finally bounced in your eardrums you nearly started to cry, missing the first hurried and concern-filled inquiry of where you were. Hearing his voice put you at ease, and after a week of missing your father’s strong presence and his warm hugs, it was hard not to take a shaky inhale when he seemed so close.

You just wanted him home; you wanted him to make you pancakes and help you with your schoolwork. You wanted him to read a book to you on this couch like you were a toddler again while his old record player was on in the background. 

It was childish, getting so worked up about it, but your dad meant the world to you. Not having him here felt wrong. 

Sighing, you rub at your eyes and revel in the darkness before letting out a strained yawn, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it over your body. It didn’t take long before your eyes were flickering shut, a calm quiet settling over the house as cars passed by outside in the street. You pull the blanket closer and breathe, inhaling pine needles and ash. 

You don’t know how long you were there, twitching in your sleep before the scent woke you up – it makes your nose scrunch, eyelids blinking away fuzz. There was a pillow under your head, the blanket wrapped tight around your neck to keep out the London chill, and a clanking of pans in the kitchen. Scraping spatula over cast iron, you knew, the sizzling of batter. 

The haze of that in-between state, sleep and consciousness fighting in the back of your skull and under your hairline, stays even as you try to force it away. It was like a wave – it constantly pulled you under when you thought you were getting to the surface. Your eyes would blink open and closed; comforted back into sleep by the deep humming, the waver of an old record player. Feet over hardwood and the smell of fresh pancakes. 

Dad’s home. 

A delirious smile slides over your sleep-hot face. That was why you were so content. This was what home sounded and smelled like. 

Dad’s home. You repeat it once more, nuzzling farther into your father's travel pillow he brings to and from Base. Pine needles. Ash. Cigar smoke.

Dad’s home! Your eyes snap open wildly, your body shooting up from the cushions as the blanket falls to the floor. Angling your head to the separated kitchen, you swipe the drool from your mouth with a heavy hand and listen. 

Your dreams had tricked you before, but no. Not this time. 

He was humming along to some old tune under his breath that mirrored the record player behind the couch; the antique turned low so it wouldn’t wake you. Blinking in shock, your mouth morphs into a rich smile instantaneously. 

Throwing yourself off the couch, your feet slam to the floor, rushing and almost tripping over the blanket on the floor as your body slants forward. Giggling, you push on, righting yourself with no second thought other than welcoming your dad home the same as you always did. Zipping around the corner, a shadow is already turning your way, a plate of pancakes ready to be put on the table and devoured. 

“Dad!” You yell loudly and launch yourself at him, hearing his chest let out a grunt and his hands splay around you so he won’t drop breakfast food all over the floor. 

A velvety chuckle is wrung from his body, and his free digits go to rest heavily on your head as you shove yourself into his hold. Gripping his shirt tight between your fingers, you try not to cry when that scent that had been fading from the house comes back tenfold. Your eyes burn, but you only let one tear out when your dad’s finger begins stroking your hair just like he did when you were little.

You had been so worried. 

“There’s my girl,” His voice whispers out, “I’m here, Sunshine. Easy now.” 

“I thought you died,” You can’t help the helpless gasp that rips from you. Your father’s hand freezes; body going rigid around your smaller, desperately grasping frame. The atmosphere of the room flips. Digging into the fabric of his shirt the full flood of tears finally comes forward. “W-when I woke up and you weren’t here I… I thought you were never coming back home, and that I would have to go and live with the neighbors and I’d have to bury you in the cemetery. I don’t-don’t wanna have to put you in the ground.” You’re rambling, but you can’t stop the words. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Dad. Please don’t leave me alone.” 

At some point, the plate of pancakes had been tossed to the counter without care for if the porcelain cracked from the force, and both of your father's arms hand scooped you into his hold effortlessly. Your breath was hiccuping violently, tears making his shirt wet and sticking to his skin. 

But John didn’t care. 

He wrapped his arms around you and curled his body in, taking you into a hold so warm and tight you couldn’t leave it even if you tried.

What’ve I done? The man feels his lips tense, blinking down at your shaking body with guilt as you sob. Oh, my Little Girl, I’m so sorry. What’ve I done to you? 

Had he never noticed the toll that this job was taking on you? John asked himself this in disgust as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, whispering words into your hair under his shaky breath. He hated when you cried because of him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love, alright? Look at me.” You don’t move your bruising grip, face still held away from sight as you gasp down frantic breaths. John’s voice gets firmer, “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, yeah?”

Your tight fingers stutter, and your head barely shifts to the side, one red eye peeking up as he looks down at you with all the love he can muster without looking incredibly broken. He never wanted to see you cry again but knew that would be an impossible feat to accomplish – but he’d do his damndest to try.

“There she is.” John’s hand goes to your cheek, brushing away the saltwater with a calloused thumb as you sniffle. “Just keep those eyes on me, Little One.”

“...M’ not little anymore.” You grumble out, your cheeks heating even as your pulse slows as you focus on your dad's eyes. So soft the edges were nearly liquid; water that held your attention as they lapped across your form. 

“To me, you’ll always be little. Can’t change that I’m afraid.” The man grunts out, tilting his head down at you and letting his eyes travel from concern to comfort. But that doesn’t change the present. 

“I’m so sorry, Love,” Your father mutters, eyes flickering away from yours in guilt so rarely shown to others. He always prided himself on being strong, you knew, bearing the brunt of the weight. Apologies weren’t often verbally said until it truly mattered. “I should have called you. That’s all on me, that is. Bloody stupid to forget about, knowin’ how you wait up for me.” 

Your lips thin to mimic your dad's, brows pulling close. But in your chest, your heart couldn’t be larger. You didn’t hold it against him, but you wished he could be here more often; not put himself in dangerous situations. Knowing as little as you did about your dad's actual job, you still knew it wasn’t entirely safe. 

Maybe the two of you protected each other from the things unseen. 

Your chest aches.

“...You’re funny lookin’ when you have to apologize. Like a kicked bear.” Pulling back your lips, a tiny smile lighting your face, and you look up at your dad with a sniffle in your nose. 

His visage snaps to yours, eyebrows going high on his head in surprise, and hooded blue eyes widening. It takes a moment, but a smirk pushes back his beard when he sees the tears have stopped falling. 

“Yeah?” John asks you, a grumble reverberating in his chest, “Now, y’know, that is just bloody rude, Sunshine. Thought I raised you better…And after I made you pancakes.” 

Laughing, you pull back, stomach rumbling and nose twitching at the prospect of the nearly forgotten food. Slithering past your father, you snatch the plate and fork before rushing into the living room. Jumping on the couch you begin to cut into the carbs, piling pieces into your mouth and smiling at the taste. No one else could make them as your dad could. 

The Brit comes not seconds later, a cup of tea held in his hand before he sits down next to you with a groan, stretching out and laying his socked feet on the coffee table next to your tossed phone from hours earlier. You giggle, suddenly leaning to his large frame and hearing him grunt in retaliation. 

“Tell me a funny story,” You demand, listening to him sip his drink in the mid-morning glow that spreads outside the house and leaks in through the opened curtains. Birds sing outside, heard from the street. 

Your dad hums, his beard tickling your scalp as he leans into you in turn, making you chuckle before he nuzzles against you kissing your head; leading to a larger exclamation of glee before you elbow his gut. 

He laughs and answers with a smile in his voice.

“Hm, did I tell you ‘bout the time Gaz fell out of the Heli?” 

You laugh, eating the rest of the pancake remnants; feeling incredibly happy and warm. There were many memories you loved of your dad and his recounting of stories fit many of them. He always kept out the gory bits – promising himself that he would never lead you down that path no matter what – and always opted for the many downright hilarious situations the rest of the 141 always seemed to get into.

“Yes, but tell me again. It’s funny, especially when you describe his face afterward! Like he–”

“Like he had shit his pants and didn’t want to tell me,” John chuckles, eyes squinted, looking down at you as you snuggle into his side. He wraps an arm over your shoulders, taking your empty plate with one hand and putting it on the side table before pulling you close and making sure his tea won’t spill. He feels your tiny, bird-like, heartbeat on his ribcage and knows that nothing could ever take you away from him. You would always be his little girl.  “Yeah, Love, I remember that one. Now, let me start from the beginning…”

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[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Eleven

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“He has what?” Emma says on the other end of the phone call. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” I tell her. “And now his brothers are here and I can’t leave!”

“I told you being with him seriously was a bad idea.”

I sigh. “I know, I know. But he… he seemed so nice. He didn’t seem like he-“

“I told you he was a Mafia leader, y/n.”

I look at the door of Matt’s bedroom to make sure his brothers aren’t listening in on me.

“I saw the photos and I closed the door. His brothers came home and I can’t go in and look again to investigate.”

“You shouldn’t have quit the article, this is big.”

“Emma!” I whisper shout into the phone. “I have more important things than that right now!”

“Well how do you believe me that he’s bad news?”

“Yes, okay, yes.”

“Good. Now, you need out of there.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last hour?!” I ask in a loud whisper.

“His brothers are where in the house?” Emma asks.

“Downstairs somewhere.”

“Do you think you could climb out the window?”

I pause. “What?”

“Climb out the window. Do you think you can?”

“Give me a moment.” I mumble as I look over to the window. I’m only on the second floor but the walls are so high that it seems more like the third or fourth. “I don’t think I can swing that.”

“Something that doesn’t make sense to me though.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Why would he leave the key where you would find it? It’s like he wanted you to find it. Like he wanted you to see-“

“Yeah that’s been bugging me too.” I sit down in the bed and scratch the back in my neck.

“Do you think you can look in there again? Without getting caught by Huwey and Luwey?”

“Maybe…” I get up and go back to Matt’s office. I pick up the key and then creep to the hallway.

“Go to face time.” Emma says and I switch the call to face time. Emma’s face appears on my screen and I shush her to make sure she doesn’t speak and get me caught.

I look down the hallway and down the stairs. Chris and Nick are downstairs doing whatever, which gives me the chance to look back in the room.

I change the camera from front to back to show Emma the room. I unlock the door and open it slowly, flicking on the light before slowly closing the door behind me to make sure Chris and Nick don’t catch me.

“Oh my god.” Emma says.

The room is filled wall to wall with photos of my ex boyfriend, my old boss, and basically any person that’s ever wronged me in my life. A big red X over my ex boyfriend’s face.

“Does the X mean…” Emma says.

“I don’t know…” I whisper.

“I’m gonna check to see if anyone’s heard from him.”

“Emma…”

“I’m screen recording. Do a full pan of the room.” She says.

I slowly move my phone camera around the room to get every part recorded.

“Good, now get out of there!” Emma whisper shouts and I shut off the light, and creep out of the room. I lock the door behind me and quickly walk to Matt’s office to put the key back where I found it under the desk.

“Get out of there, girl!” Emma says and I quickly make my way to the window.

“How do I get out?” I whisper to her.

“You’ve seen movies, tie the bedsheets together and climb out!”

I nod and run to the bed, pulling off the sheets and starting to tie the corners together.

“God, this is so difficult with silk sheets!” I complain as I tie the corners together. I double tie them just to make sure they down slip out of their hold.

I open the window and throw the sheets out, the tie the end to the bedpost. I slowly climb out the window with my phone in my back pocket. I scale down the wall slowly and carefully. The sheets don’t make it to the grass but make it just far enough to where it wouldn’t hurt to jump. I slip to the ground and fall on my back.

I take a second to catch my breath before getting up and starting to run to the driveway. I didn’t think this far ahead. He lives in a mansion miles away from anything. I don’t have any of the keys to his cars and even if I did he’d find me.

I sneak around to the front and make sure to hide away from view of Matt’s brothers. I rush to the driveway and start running as fast as I can.

I start to loose my breath after running for a long time. It felt like hours even though it was only a few minutes. God I wish I didn’t skip my gym classes in high school.

The sun was going down when I had called Emma a little over an hour ago, and now it’s almost fully dark out.

Before I could reach the main road, a car comes driving up the driveway. I gasp and step back. It’s Matt, I know it.

The car stops right in front of me and Matt steps out.

“Hey, doll, what are you doing out here?” He asks as he walks over to me. I step back to get away from him and he stops, looking at me confused. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asks.

“I… I saw it.” I say softly.

“Saw what?” He asks me.

“The room. The room with… with the photos, with the-“

“Dollface…” Matt steps closer to me and I step backwards to keep him at a distance.

“You left the key where I could find it, you wanted me to find it, you wanted me to know.” My voice tremors as my body begins to shake.

“Yes, you’re right, but I only wanted you to know I’m protecting you from them.” Matt steps closer to me again and I step backwards again as well.

“What did the X over Bennetts picture mean?” My voice cracks as I ask.

Matt stays silent. He sighs and then says “Get in the car babygirl.”

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“Just get in the car.”

“Did you kill him?”

Matt sighs again. “After what he did to you, he’s lucky all I did was kill him.”

I stand in shock in front of Matt. I’m unable to move as he steps closer to me. “It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you.” He says as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his car.

My heart races as I’m unable to move by myself from the shock. Matt opens his car door and sets me in the passenger seat. He goes to the driver seat and starts the car back up.

After a bit of silence I say “What did you do to him?” In a whisper.

Matt sighs. “I did it for you, babygirl.”

“Tell me what you did to him.”

“Y/n-“

“I will jump out of this car if you don’t tell me.” I threaten.

Matt chuckles. “I’m going 20, you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

“Matt, tell me what you did to Bennett!”

Matt groans and shakes his head. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t leave me.”

“Leave you?”

“I don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“You killed him! You killed him and you don’t want me to leave you? To think of you differently? You don’t think I will?”

“I did it for you!” He shouts back. Matt’s hands grip the steer wheel tighter. He takes a deep breath. “You think you know him but you don’t. When I first saw you, first fell for you, after our first time together, before that even. When I left that hotel room weeks ago for the first time I knew I wanted you. So I looked you up. I looked up everything I could find about you. I saw you dated him, Bennett Cassidy. I read about what he did to you, I saw the messages he screenshotted and sent to his friends acting like you were some toy instead of a human being.”Matt says calmly.

“Matt…”

“You don’t know who he is.”

“He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh he is so much worse than that. You have no idea darling.”

“What did you do to him?” I shout.

“Do you want the fucking details?” He snaps through his teeth.

I flinch and stare at him in shock.

“I’m- I’m sorry princess.” He says and puts his hand on my knee. I move my knee away from him and he frowns, putting his hand back in the wheel.

“Matt I want to go home.” I say calmly.

“You can’t.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Is it too uncomfortable? I can get us a cozy cabin or-“

“I don’t want to be with you.”

Matt stops the car and looks at me. “You can’t do that.”

“Matt you killed him.”

“I did it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, I’d never ask for anything like that!” Tears form in my eyes.

“Y/n you can’t leave me.”

“Get away from me-“ I open the car door.

Matt opens his door and runs after me, taking my arm. “Don’t go, please don’t go.”

“Let go of me.” I try to pull away from him.

“Y/n please, don’t make me do this!” He begs and my breath hitches.

“Do what? What are you going to do to me?” I try to pull away from him again.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He says. He pinches my neck and everything goes black.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @nickmillersn1gf

[lazybutsmexy]

I've had this idea for a while, but I wasn't sure who to ask. But after reading Bird Hunting I'm confident you'll do it perfectly 🥰

What if the reader was affectionate with people. Like before every mission they (platonically) tells everyone 'I love you' and blows them a kiss. Leaves little notes in everyone's vests, things like that. Thank you🩷🩷

Thank you for your lovely message! I appreciate the trust you put on me, I hope not to disappoint hehe. I completed this request with both bullet headcanons and a lil'drabble, hope you like it! Under the cut for length!

Warnings: none! pure fluff, GN!reader

Word count: 1200~

Task Force 141 + affectionate reader

the moment you stepped into base it became clear that you’d be the resident care bear.

you made it your life mission to make sure everyone on base knew they were loved

because everyone deserves to be loved - looking at you, Simon *wink wink*

your levels of affection varied from person to person, always being mindful of how comfortable they felt with it

for Ghost for example, you were more inclined to have a cup of Earl Gray ready for him the moment he walked into the common lounge, and sat in silence with him for however long he needed it.

sometimes you’d pat him on the shoulder (when he was sitting down ofc) when you walked past and greeted him variations of “hello mister grim reaper!”, “how’s my favorite specter doing today?”, “woah, you look delightfully cadaverous today~”

he always glared at you when you did that, but he was definitely blushing under the facepaint and skull mask, don’t be fooled. 

your loving words would stay swimming around his brain for days on end 

Price wasn’t against physical affection, but he felt queasy about having a subordinate hugging him in front of others

a pat on the shoulder or the back from you, with a “glad to see you, Captain!” in the mornings was more than enough to lift his spirits for the rest of the day

you also made sure to sneak in his favorite bourbon for his birthday - he scolded you lightly about rules and regulations, but once no one was around he gave you a one-armed hug and a “thanks, kid, appreciate it”

would definitely burst into tears if you told him “Love you, dad!”, so use it wisely

with both Gaz and Soap, however, you went all out. 

they had no qualms at all being physically affectionate

Soap in particular would see you running towards him and immediately drop anything he was holding to catch you in his arms, maybe even give you a lil’ twirl as you planted a wet smooch on his cheek

he would definitely give you a wet smooch back and a big ol’ squeeze

Gaz wasn’t as over-the-top with affection, he was much calmer than Soap

nevertheless, he never, ever, refused your affection

he would immediately feel soothed and content the moment you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, or gave him a kiss on the cheek

receiving any physical affection made him feel giddy in general, sometimes he had a hard time wrapping his head around some of the things he had to do for his job

if you blew Gaz or Soap a kiss they would immediately blow one back

in general, something you never failed to do was to sneak little notes of affirmation in their gear without them noticing

or at least you thought they didn’t notice

they always noticed when your fingers dig a bit too far in their pockets, they just pretended not to notice

because they knew that, the moment they needed it, they would find a lovely note in your handwriting reminding them of how loved they were

Simon made you believe he tossed them away but he actually stacked them in his journal to read in his darkest hours

Soap taped them to the wall next to his bed so he could re-read them all before he went to sleep

Price also collected them in his journal, but taped his favorite one - “Can’t wait to see you soon! Take care, love you!” - to a framed photo of his beloved team

Gaz kept your little notes in the drawer of his bedside table, and every morning he’d choose one to keep in his pocket at all times during the day

~~~~~~

You waited patiently by the door, blinking slowly at the hallway within the base. It was zero-two-forty-five and you should definitely be asleep by now - this was not a mission for you, after all. But you wouldn't simply go to sleep without your little departing ritual. 

The footsteps echoing in the hallway perked you up, your fingers fiddling with the tiny pieces of paper in your pockets. 

Captain Price was the first to arrive, as usual. He shot you a warm smile the moment he noticed you, and you replicated it while opening up your arms. He glanced around and, once verifying there were no other soldiers in the vicinity, he relented and let you give him a quick hug.

A little smirk found his lips when he felt your fingers dig a bit too hard in the area near his smaller holsters. He said nothing, though, and you looked up at him with a grin.

“I hope everything goes well, Cap!”

“Thanks, kid,” he patted your head before stepping out of your short-lived embrace, he walked out and went to have a word with the pilots.

Ghost was the next one. You hadn’t heard him approach you, but he patiently waited for you to notice his presence. When you finally did, you patted his shoulder and shot him a wink, your lips still stretched into a grin as you slipped a paper in his radio holster. 

“Be safe out there, ‘kay? I’ll be waiting for you, LT.”

He only answered with a small grunt, but the softness in his eyes was noticeable miles away. He waited for your touch to leave him before stepping away - he didn’t want you to think he was shrugging you off. 

“Hey, Y/n!” Soap called you, and you opened your arms wide for him to fit in the middle. He let his weapon hang to wrap both arms around you, effectively picking you up and giving you a tight squeeze, “don’t miss me too much, eh?” He smirked down at you, and you answered with a chuckle and squished his cheeks between your hands - after slipping his note into one of his back holsters. 

“I'll always miss you, though,” you hummed, “I promise not to watch Wednesday without you, so don’t worry about that.” He gave you another tight squeeze with a “you better not!” growl into your neck, making you giggle and kick the air.

Gaz’s own chuckle brought you back to the present, and Soap lowered you to your feet before jogging towards the helicopter. You cupped Gaz’s face and brought him down to you, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Take care out there, yeah? Don’t do anything too crazy, hm?”

Gaz snorted and shot you a smirk, “you sure you shouldn’t tell that to someone else?” he teased, his head tilting toward the Scot.

“And you think he’d listen to me?” you shot back, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a hug - also slipping his note in one of the back holsters, “see you soon, Gaz,” you mumbled in his neck, and he reciprocated with a squeeze. 

Just as Gaz joined the others on the helicopter, the engine roared to life, and you stepped closer just so you’d be heard above the noise. You cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled out, “Love you! Take care! See you soon!” 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to hear them say anything back, and you sometimes doubted they could even hear you over the roar of the engines. But you never failed to reassure them that there was someone waiting for their safe return.